Chapter Thirty
Nola stood by the locked door, unable to move. The bedroom was different than anything she had ever seen before. It looked like something out of an old novel. A canopy of deep red fabric hung over a four-poster bed, which was wide enough for three people to sleep comfortably in and had a fluffy quilt that perfectly matched the canopy. A fainting couch covered in gold fabric sat at the foot of the bed.
Thick carpeting, so beautiful Nola felt terrible standing on it, covered the floor. And T’s voice drifted from the back of the room as she hummed to herself over the sound of running water.
“It’s”—Beauford chewed his bottom lip—“something, isn’t it?”
“We don’t have things like this in the domes.” Nola unlaced her boots, leaving them by the door. “I mean, I know we have a lo
